


Arms of the Ocean

by OrangeVanilla



Category: Captain America (Movies) RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Blood, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Simultaneous Orgasm, bc it's a different thing, but i'm trying okay, curious seb, how the fuck do i even tag a siren orgasm, siren au, siren!sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7789234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeVanilla/pseuds/OrangeVanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris finds a little more than he'd bargained for on his morning walk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arms of the Ocean

Chris has always loved the early morning lull of the Fort Tilden beach. Nothing gets him more at peace than the slow, steady crash of waves against the sand, with no screaming children to distract him. There isn’t a sandcastle in sight. It’s just him and a lonely dog walker, most likely trying the beat the usual early morning rush of owners. The little Bichon Frise enjoying the early air probably wouldn’t stand a chance against the family of Dobermans owned by the house three doors down from his own.

The comfortable musky air of December brings nothing but cool grey skies, too early for the sun to make an appearance. With it being just a week before Christmas, the usually high numbers of early bustle of dog owners and joggers has been dwindling, much to his delight. 

Chris follows along the tide line on his stroll, going through his usual routine of checking for any wildlife in need of a little help. More often than not, there are a few fish that need a careful hand with getting back into the sea, and this morning is no exception. 

“Hey there,” Chris says pointlessly at a small fish who’s freaking out in a damp, hollowed out patch of sand. He picks it up with both hands, heading to the water and letting it swim away home. “You stay safe, alright?” Chris calls after it, like the fish is really going to take note of his request and make a point of looking both ways before swimming. 

He repeats this five or six times throughout the rest of his morning walk. More fish are making a less than great habit of getting washed up, and it’s not razzing his berries. The last thing Chris needs is to find dead fish at 6:30 AM. 

Chris is about to call it quits when he spots something pretty big. It’s maybe under a hundred metres away, all silvery and tangled in fishing net, and he figures it looks a lot like a dolphin. _Great_ , he thinks as he starts towards the silvery thing, _just my fucking luck to find a washed up dolphin this morning_. 

As he nears it, it becomes clear that the silvery thing is not a dolphin. Unless dolphins are being hit with a new wave of evolution that’s giving them arms, the thing in the net certainly isn’t a dolphin. It’d be cool, though, if they were. Chris Evans would go down in history as the first man who ever found a dolphin with arms.

It’s not a dolphin with arms. It’s a siren. There’s a siren tangled up in fishing net, and it’s dying. “Ah, shit,” Chris groans and starts jogging the rest of the way, eternally grateful for the little pair of manicure scissors he keeps in his pocket after a situation in which tiny scissors were definitely needed. As he approaches the siren, he notices blood, and a lot of it. “Fuck,” he huffs and breaks into a run, falling to his knees and looking worriedly at the torn flesh at the siren’s waist.

Chris rips his shirt off in seconds, balling it up and pressing it carefully against the wound. The siren is aware enough to make a noise of complaint at the pressure, its fingertips twitching gently. Chris feels blessed that he paid close attention in the seven marine biology lessons he had in high school. Sirens are rare, and most are easily agitated. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chris groans, keeping his shirt pressed against the wound as he fishes in his pocket for those manicure scissors. “Can, uh-... hello? Can you hear me? Can you understand me at all?”

The siren makes a soft noise, and it’s only now that Chris gets a good look. The whole hour long lesson about sirens didn’t do this face justice. There’s something ethereal about the creature before him, a gentle sense of effortless beauty. The manicure scissors in his fingers nearly slip, like some desperate attempt to launch themselves at the beautiful siren. 

Chris gets to work at snipping away at the fishing net before he starts drooling. It’s tangled pretty badly around the tail, especially at the fin, but Chris can only do so much with one hand. “I’m... I’m gonna try to be gentle, alright?” Chris explains softly, wincing as he tugs some net caught between dislodged scales. This isn’t good, not by a long shot. “I’m really sorry if I hurt you, but I gotta get this net off.”

A series of little clicks lets him know the siren can at least hear him. Chris peeks at the wound under his shirt, letting go when he’s happy the bleeding has stopped enough. The net is cutting into the tail in some places, bloodying the silvery scales. Sure, he’s not a marine biologist, but Chris is pretty sure that siren tails aren’t meant to be this pale in colour. Silvers, especially, are normally shimmery and perfect for attracting the eyes of onlookers. The bleak sparkle is less than encouraging. 

Towards the bottom of the tail, Chris finds he can tear the net open with his bare hands. There’s less danger of torn scales, and the mesh seems to have been weakened by the impressively large fin at the end. Jesus Chris on a bike, that fin is _huge_ and so _beautiful_. It reminds Chris of how his mother always warned him to be careful of swans, even though he always just wanted to pat one. He’s totally gonna end up meeting his demise through touching this fin. 

The siren cries out when Chris’s shaking hands try to move the net away from its tail. “Fuck, shit, what’s wrong?” Chris panics, holding his hands up to show the siren he’s not trying to dine on expensive marine life for free like a shitbag. Quaky fingers motion to – oh, fucking hell, the wound at its waist is bleeding like it’s in a competition for fastest death via blood loss.

“Hey, there, there,” Chris soothes gently as he presses his shirt against the wound again, glancing worriedly at the torn up scales littering that shimmering tail. “Shhh, I’ll help you. I’m gonna help as much as I can, alright? I’m here.”

A nod makes Chris feel all fluffy inside, because he’s helping a fucking siren. “Can you hold this against your side for me?” Chris asks, smiling softly when the siren raises a trembling hand and holds the shirt against its wound. “Thank you, that helps a lot. I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you, is that okay? There’s a hospital that’s-”

“ _No_!” the siren gasps, eyes wide for the first time and full of fear. Chris swallows hard and nods, stroking his hands over the sirens tail and cooing gently at its soft whimpering. “I-... no hospital, please, I can’t handle that again...”

“Alright, that’s okay. Hey, my name’s Chris,” Chris says softly, stroking his thumb over the scales of the siren’s tail and moving to sit a little. He takes back the control of the shirt pressing, daring to peek under and biting his bottom lip at the soaked fabric. 

“Sebastian,” the siren breathes, whining gently and staring deep into Chris’s eyes, unfaltering. They’re icy blue and pained, and Chris can’t help the surge of need to help that rolls through him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Sebastian. Thank you.”

Chris offers him a smile, shaking off the unsettling sickness caused by the shake in the sirens voice, the ragged tone. “It’s no trouble. I feel privileged to be able to help,” he admits, watching the gentle rise and fall of Sebastian’s chest. “I’m gonna need to move you, though. My apartment’s close, and it’s early enough for me to get you in safely. Is that alright?”

Sebastian nods slowly, glancing around and placing a freezing cold hand over Chris’s own on the shirt. “I can hold this, if you like.”

Chris nods gratefully, fighting a blush as Sebastian looks deep into his eyes, their hands still touching over the shirt. He sits up on his knees, reluctantly retracting his hand and standing. “Alright, I’m gonna lift you. You’ll be okay for five minutes, right? Or do you need me to set you in the water for a little while?”

Sebastian smiles gently, shaking his head. “I’ll be okay. My gills are a little painful right now, so I switched to the human way,” he explains, moving to let Chris put his arms under him and wincing as he’s lifted. “Just... is there water close to your home?”

Chris starts walking slowly towards the steps leading up to the silent road, glancing down every so often to be sure Sebastian’s wound has enough pressure on it. “I have a big bathtub you can stay in for as long as you need,” he says as he takes the steps slowly, considering he’s got a siren in his arms. Sebastian doesn’t exactly look peachy, but he’s not as peaky as he was in the sand. “I can try to get you in my hot tub, but that’s gonna take time. It’ll be more spacious, though.”

“Thank you very much,” Sebastian says, closing his eyes and letting himself be carried by his saviour. “You’re very kind.”

As Chris glances around for any cars before crossing the road, he thinks about how in the name of fuck he’s going to treat Sebastian’s wound. He hasn’t had a great look at it yet, considering the need for pressure on it, but it didn’t look great. “Hey, um,” he starts awkwardly, “that... that wound. How did it happen?”

Sebastian groans softly, shuddering in Chris’s arms. He looks like he’s about to hurl, so Chris picks up the pace. If he hurries, he can get them home in two minutes. “Shark,” Sebastian says plainly, pressing Chris’s shirt harder against the wound. “Whole reason we’re dying out. Hate them. Hate sharks.”

“Alright, no sharks. I’ll fight any off if they try breaking into my house, how about that?” Chris jokes, a tingle of pride fizzing in his belly when Sebastian laughs softly, a noise so soft and gentle and light, like a tinkling bell. As he passes the house next door to his own, not a sound is made from those god awful Dobermans, which is a great success. 

It dawns on him that he’s going to have to get the door open somehow.

“Could you... shit, fuck, uh,” Chris cringes, wondering how the hell he’s going to get his keys with a wounded siren in his arms. “I need to get my keys. You couldn’t... could you try reaching in my pocket?”

“...pocket?”

“Alright, it’s easier if I set you down for a second,” Chris decides at the realisation that sirens certainly do not need to know what pockets are, squatting as smoothly as possible and resting Sebastian against the wall. He makes quick work of grabbing his keys from the pocket of his sweatpants and unlocking the door, only stabbing himself with the manicure scissors once in his mission. 

As he picks Sebastian up again, he notices the tingling feeling in his head. His memory of his marine biology class informs him that he’s definitely pleasing this siren and he’s being rewarded for it with ‘a sense of wellness that will eventually surge through the body’. Textbook siren knowledge serves him well. 

Chris thanks his lucky stars he chose a big home with a big downstairs bathroom. His bathtub can easily fit four people, so it should be good enough for one siren, right?

“Okay, we’re here,” Chris smiles as he sets Sebastian down in the empty bathtub, flicking the lights on and dimming them so no one gets blinded. “How do you want the water?”

“Salt, please,” Sebastian says, resting his back against the side of the bath and peeling away the bloodied shirt from his side. The wound has stopped bleeding, but it still looks less than happy. Chris bites his lip.

“I meant temperature, sorry. Not sure I can get you salt through the faucet, but I can definitely sprinkle a little sea salt into the water once the bath is full. But I should really have a look at that bite, huh?”

Sebastian looks up at him with watery eyes. “Please don’t take me to a hospital for it. People in hospitals aren’t good to sirens,” he says softly, and it finally dawns on Chris that hospitals to this siren probably equate to science labs. At a closer look, he could risk bandaging the wound with the waterproof bandaging he keeps just in case of emergencies, and call Jeremy when Sebastian gets a little healthier. Sure, Sebastian’s not human, but it’s not a tail injury, so it’ll be just like another patient. Maybe. Hopefully.

“I won’t take you to a hospital, Sebastian,” Chris promises, heading to the cabinet and fishing out some antiseptic wash alongside some cotton balls and the bandage. “So, sharks. Are they a common problem for you?”

As Chris returns to the side of the bath, he takes note of how calm Sebastian’s eyes are now. Icy blue and hopeful. “They... they are common, but not usually so fierce to peaceful creatures,” he says, gasping softly as a little water hits his tail as Chris wets a cotton ball. “Oh, that feels nice!”

Chris chuckles softly, making sure the drain is plugged and letting the water continue to run slowly. “I’ll leave it on while I clean this up. This is going to sting a little, alright?” he says, dabbing at the wound after Sebastian nods. He takes it like a champ, not even wincing when Chris washes around the worse of the bloodied flesh. Chris is glad his feelings about sharks caused by Jaws are justified. This shark really did a number on Sebastian. 

It’s not until Chris has to start applying the antiseptic that Sebastian makes a peep. Even then, he only gasps and shudders once, and just lets Chris get on with it. “Have you ever fought a shark?” Sebastian asks after a few moments of silence, watching Chris’s hands with eyes full of youthful curiosity. 

“I haven’t, no. You must be really brave,” Chris observes, feeling like a parent tending to a scrape on a child’s knee more than a man washing a shark bite on a siren. Sebastian’s incredibly well behaved for a member of a species that’s meant to be prone to tantrums. Maybe the textbooks were wrong about a few things. “How many sharks have you had problems with before?”

“Too many,” Sebastian sighs, tilting his head back against the edge of the tub and closing his eyes. His hands are still trembling, Chris notices, and bloodied. The sight of those famously sharp fingernails reminds Chris that this siren most likely has absurdly sharp teeth, too, and it flips his stomach.

A sniffle brings Chris out of his thoughts, and he sets the cotton bud down. Sebastian’s crying, and he’s not being very discreet about it. “Hey now,” Chris says softly, patting Sebastian’s silvery tail warily and being sure to avoid the torn and bloodied scales. Sebastian looks at him, and Chris’s heart starts beating maybe a hundred miles a minute. He looks broken. “Come on, I’m not gonna let anything hurt you. You’re in my home, you’re safe. I’m gonna take care of you for as long as you want to stay.”

“You’re being so kind,” Sebastian wails, breaking down into full sobs, and Chris coos softly as he moves to hug the siren as warmly as possible. Sebastian hugs back tight, almost pulling Chris into the bath with him as he cries against Chris’s bare shoulder. The water is still trickling into the bath, so at least Sebastian’s tail looks a little healthier as he has the meltdown of the year. 

“It’s alright, I’m here,” Chris soothes, trailing his fingers up and down Sebastian’s back in an attempt to ease him. “I’m not going anywhere, not unless you want me to. You’re safe here, I promise.”

Sebastian’s crying softens after a few minutes of being petted by Chris’s careful hands, the two of them hugging uncomfortably over the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” Sebastian hiccups as he pulls away from Chris’s embrace, “I’m just... I’m overwhelmed. I’ve never met a human who was so kind,”

Chris picks the bandage up and rips open the packaging, shaking his head. “I think that’s awful. I mean, you’re not dangerous, or even mean. I’m just doing what any good person would do,” Chris says as he places the bandage over the wound carefully. Thank fuck far waterproof gauze pads. It’s like the world knew he’d be tending to a shark bite. “Now that’s taken care of, we’ve gotta take care of the water.”

After ten minutes of testing, Sebastian decides he likes the steady flow of warm water against his tail the most. Chris sets about Googling what sirens eat as he leaves Sebastian alone to soak in the bath for a while. 

According to a website that _seems_ more reliable that Wikipedia, their diet mainly consists of raw fish, seaweed and... humans. Considering he’s the only thing on that list that’s in the house, Chris is going to have to find an alternative. Wait, no, he has salmon. Thank fuck for small mercies, Chris isn’t going to have to sacrifice an arm to feed a siren. 

“Okay,” he says as he returns to the bathroom, laptop in hand, “is there anything you need?”

Sebastian’s clearly having a good time in the water, if the playful flick of his tailfin is anything to go by. “I don’t believe so, thank you,” he says gently, very clearly eying Chris as he settles to sit on the floor beside the tub. Chris takes a chance to eye over Sebastian properly, happy to see that his tail looks noticeably more vibrant than before. 

He also takes the time to admire him. Sirens are obviously meant to be beautiful; it’s well known that the ancient sirens would lead whole fleets of boats to their places in caves and on rocks with nothing but their voices and their mesmerising beauty. 

But there’s something about Sebastian that’s just _magnificent_. 

Even sat in the bath, the siren has a lingering air of grace hanging over him like a silky robe. His skin shimmers gently, a beautiful blend into the brilliant silver scales of his tail. His tailfin is a sight to behold in itself; beautiful blue-grey and powerful and still somehow an image of gentleness. Chris can’t help but long to reach out and stroke every inch of the siren, to caress where flesh blends into scales and to card his fingers through his wavy hair. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, you know.”

Chris stares openly as Sebastian grins at him, because apparently sirens can read minds, too. “How-”

“Your fingers were twitching, and you were looking at me like I’m the tastiest thing you’ve ever seen,” Sebastian giggles softly, draping a hand over the edge of the bath and dripping water on the floor. Chris blushes, glancing back at his open laptop. “It’s okay, though. Sirens are made to be admired. Feel free to... admire me.”

“I-... thank you,” Chris says softly, moving closer and biting his lip. “How did you go from crying on me to being all sultry?”

“Water,” Sebastian hums, grabbing one of Chris’s hands and placing it at his tail. “Come on, pet me. Don’t be shy!”

Chris chuckles softly and does as he’s told, petting Sebastian’s tail like it’s made of porcelain. It feels a lot warmer now, and the steady thrum of fizzling pleasure returns to the back of Chris’s head as his fingers stroke down Sebastian’s tail. “It’s... really smooth, wow. How are those scales doing, the ones that got a little- _hey_!”

A flick of water right to the face stops his worrying, Sebastian’s tinkling bell of a laugh gracing his ears. “Go touch my tailfin, I know you were curious about it. I dare you,” Sebastian grins mischievously, ghosting his own fingers over Chris’s shoulder. “I wanna touch _you_.”

Chris raises an eyebrow, moving his fingers to Sebastian’s tailfin and gasping softly at the sheer strength in the playful flick as Sebastian once again attacks him with water. “Where exactly do you want to touch me?” Chris asks, grabbing Sebastian’s fin with his left hand and petting his tail with his right hand. 

“Ooh, I don’t know. I’ve never been so close to a human for so long,” Sebastian says dreamily, gasping softly when Chris brushes his fingers over somewhere _sensitive_. “Oh, do that again...”

“Tell me where you want to touch me,” Chris grins, keeping his hand still over the same area. Sebastian quivers, eyes focusing very obviously on Chris’s crotch. “Come on. Say it and I’ll let you.”

“Can I see your dick?” Sebastian asks breathlessly, eyes full of sparkling curiosity.

“Go ahead.”

Sebastian pulls Chris’s sweatpants down and stares at his briefs, clearly mesmerised by the outline of his cock. “Is it... it’s under that, right?”

Chris snorts out a laugh, taking his hands away from Sebastian’s tail and pushing his briefs down, eternally grateful for having an above average penis. Sebastian gasps softly, biting his lip and leaning in close to look. “Have you never-?”

“I’m gonna tell you a secret,” Sebastian says as he wraps a hand around Chris’s cock, “sirens are a little magical. If we need to, human... _lower halves_ are an option.”

Chris would answer, but he’s getting a pretty great handjob from Sebastian. “Oh,” is about the only thing he can manage, hips rolling up into Sebastian’s fist as he pumps like he’s trying to figure out how a penis works. 

“Yeah, it’s why mermaids hate us. Mermaids are effectively less evolves sirens. Which is why sea witches are such a big issue,” Sebastian explains, cooing softly when Chris’s dick fattens up noticeably. “I like this, does this always happen?”

“Uh, only after... only with arousal,” Chris puffs, resisting the urge to pet Sebastian’s hair and tell him he’s doing a good job. They’re not in a relationship, and Sebastian’s not trying to get him off deliberately. This is just a siren’s curiosity.

“This is definitely getting you off, right?” Sebastian grins, and Chris fucking _grunts_ because this siren is the most chaotic little thing he’s met in recent years. “I’m not clueless about human anatomy. I just wanted to test it out before I ventured into the whole legs thing. Come a little closer, please?”

Chris does as he’s asked, gasping and moaning loud when Sebastian licks over his tip, lapping at it like he’s a fucking kitten drinking cream. “Fucking hell, this is so unfair,” Chris groans, nudging his hips forward and gripping the side of the bath.

“I’ll teach you how to get me off in a second, just let me do this,” Sebastian insists, taking the head of Chris’s cock in his mouth and suckling gently. His eyes slide shut, his head bobbing down as he takes Chris’s length in his mouth without even a hint of a gag reflex. 

And then he starts _humming_ , and Chris comes almost immediately. “Fuck, fucking shit, that’s so fucking good,” Chris gasps as Sebastian swallows his load eagerly, fucking into his mouth lightly as his orgasm rolls through him like a tremor. “Holy fuck. What the fuck?”

Sebastian pulls off Chris’s cock with a loud wet noise, grinning proudly. “Siren song. It can make you do anything if your defences are down.”

“Alright, this just isn’t fair,” Chris scowls, pulling his briefs back up and revelling in the disappointment on Sebastian’s face at the action. “Tell me how to get you off.”

“Gimme your hand,” Sebastian demands, guiding Chris’s hand to a little dip in his tail when he does as he’s told. “This is my... well, I don’t really know if you have a word for it, but it’s basically a hole for sex. Sirens are versatile, and I like to experiment, but I like it best when someone fingers me.”

Chris stares at him blankly. “I can just finger you?”

“Yep. Not so complicated. Just take your time.”

Chris narrows his eyes and peers through the water to see the small hole in Sebastian’s tail, concealed perfectly by scales. It definitely looks fleshy and soft, almost inviting. Chris bites his lip, pressing the tip of his index finger against the fleshiest part that he can see and rubbing slowly.

“Oh, yeah, that’s nice,” Sebastian breathes, relaxing back against the bath and closing his eyes. His tailfin now lies still, relaxed like the rest of his body. Chris gets a little more confident, pushing his finger in slowly and trying not to freak out when Sebastian tenses like a bow. “Do that a little more.”

“This is the weirdest day of my fuckin’ life,” Chris laughs breathlessly, proceeding to push until his finger’s buried to the knuckle, thrusting slightly. Sebastian mewls with every movement, moving a hand to rest at Chris’s shoulder and petting it slowly, encouraging him. “Is this good? Am I doing alright?”

“You’re doing great,” Sebastian croons, trailing his fingers to grip Chris’s hair. “Curl you finger a little, right here when you- _oh_!”

The silky walls around Chris’s finger contract as he curls his finger, and his head swims like he’s got a whole ocean in his head. Sebastian’s humming gently, fingertips stroking the nape of Chris’s neck like he’s caressing a lover, and it all feels so _good_. “You’re doing that thing, right?”

Sebastian giggles and nods, shuddering as Chris tentatively adds a second finger. “Think of it as a reward,” he hums, moaning sweetly as Chris’s fingers graze over a velvety bump. “You’re being good, and I wanna be good to you in return. Keep rubbing your fingers there, let me make you feel good.”

Chris nods and leans fully against the bath, trembling lightly as Sebastian moves to stroke his throat and shoulders tenderly. His fingers move on their own, twitching and stroking and rubbing against the smooth flesh like it’s his job. 

Sebastian’s lips press against his ear, sparking the tingling feeling again, and this time it feels like he’s floating on air. There are definitely words being murmured somewhere alongside the consistent hum, but Chris can’t focus on anything more than the sudden pleasure wrapping around his whole body like ivy on an old cottage. 

A whimper escapes Chris’s lips as his body tenses, the feeling of Sebastian’s lips and fingers the only thing that’s present, along with that steady hum, unintelligible whispers. “Fuck,” he manages, hips twitching pointlessly against the bathroom floor. Sebastian’s laugh echoes against his ear, light and tinkling and so good.

“You can take your fingers out of me now, sweetheart,” Sebastian smiles, still stroking Chris’s throat with his fingertips. Chris does as he’s told, dropping his hand in his lap and swallowing hard. “Thank you for that,” he whispers, “you were so good for me.”

Chris laughs and shakes his head. “You’re the one who gave me a fucking full body orgasm, holy fuck,” he grins, closing his eyes as Sebastian combs his fingers through his hair. 

“Actually, you’re the one who did that,” Sebastian says against his hair, still petting him gently. “I just linked with you. Call it my way of thanking you for patching me up.”

“I-... so that was _your_ orgasm I felt?” Chris raises an eyebrow, moving to look at Sebastian again. He looks positively radiant; shimmering skin and vibrant scales and bright eyes. “You feel that on a regular basis?”

Sebastian smiles, pressing a kiss to Chris’s forehead. “I do. How are you feeling?”

There aren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe how Chris feels. “Um. Kinda overwhelmed, I guess. I feel really tingly, still, but it’s good. Thank you,”

“It’s no problem. You helped me when you didn’t need to, you deserve a little pleasure, right?” Sebastian giggles, flicking a little water at Chris again and grinning as it hits him in the face. “You know, if you let me stay, I can do that more.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “You wanna stay here? In my bathtub?”

Sebastian nods plainly. “There are no sharks, and you’re very pretty. My handsome human saviour.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to get a pool installed, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh i have a weakness for mythical au's it was only a matter of time before i turned sebastian into a beautiful fish  
> fun fact, this is based on a comic i have absolutely no way of finding again. not even the same fandom, but i remember a siren and a hole for sex and THIS HAS HAPPENED  
> i wanna write more of this, but i'm not sure what to write. feel free to share any ideas with me in the comments, or on my tumblr, [buckys--plums]()!!


End file.
